


Tracing Solitude

by bluesylph



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bartender Atsumu, Fluff, Literally Not Even the Characters At This Point, Multi, Out of Character, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Tattoo Artist Sakusa, bury me with this ship, probably, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesylph/pseuds/bluesylph
Summary: cuckoos are lonely birds.they lay their eggs in other birds' nests. there is no self for a cuckoo.crows are birds of omen.they bring fortune, good or bad. there is no peace for a crow.what happens when the crow gives up its nest for the cuckoo?
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 30





	1. 1.0

**Author's Note:**

> First, I would like to acknowledge that this is probably going to be out of character as all hell, because I wrote this on a whim and it's so very tailored to my personal taste. Sorry. Second, if I did do a good job with their personalities, I'll be impressed. Either way, if people enjoy this fic I'll probably continue to write it. We'll see.

For someone so indifferent to human contact as he was, Sakusa Kiyoomi enjoyed his work in the small tattoo parlor. His indifference only made the job easier, and without the pressure of needing to be friendly, keeping his mask on was no issue.

Sakusa never paid attention to his customers.

Not even the flashy ones, of which there were many.

Blond, undercut with a sharp dark brown. A lopsided smirk that looked out of place even on his face, which looked like it was built specifically to house such a smirk. Sakusa sighed and prepared himself for an exhausting consultation, but the young man never even made it inside. He simply watched the other artists work, walking away after a few minutes.

“Do you know him?”

Bokuto Koutarou, a fellow artist, raised an eyebrow and nodded his head to the newly empty spot at the window, and Sakusa quietly shook his head. Shrugging, Bokuto returned to his unfinished designs, leaving Sakusa to contemplate his own.

After a day of spaced out appointments and unsuccessful consultations, Sakusa packed up his belongings and dropped by the convenience store for something to eat, pulling a few onigiri from the shelf with a careful hand.

“Thank you. Have a nice day!”

On his way out, a rough shoulder bumped into his own, and Sakusa narrowed his eyes, only to see a strangely familiar face hidden under an unfamiliar mop of dusty brown hair. 

“Sorry.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes and breezed away, turning down the street to his apartment. Unlocking the door and closing it behind him, he dropped his backpack against the wall and washed his hands carefully, watching the soap bubble and stream off his fingers. He blazed his way through the onigiri in no time and settled into his bed, dozing off within minutes.

The next day, the blond young man stopped by again, then again a few days after that. Over the next few weeks, in fact, Sakusa lost count of how many times he saw the same languid eyes drifting over the equipment in the shop.

Finally, after a month, he pushed open the door to the shop, someone behind him that Sakusa recognized as the person who had bumped into him at the convenience store. Sakusa’s stomach flipped and he turned back to his sketchbook to avoid greeting the two of them.

“How can I help you?” Bokuto grinned.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could get a consultation.”

“I’ll do it.”

Before he even registered what he was doing, Sakusa blurted it out, and his heart thudded in his chest as he processed what he had just gotten himself into. Sighing under the mask, he waved the two of them over to him.

“Name?”

“Miya Atsumu.”

“And do you always make a habit of casing a shop for a month before you enter?”

“Right,” Atsumu laughed. “Sorry. I wanted to come in earlier but never had the courage.”

“So. What are you thinking?”

“A crow. Wings outstretched, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Sakusa arched an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure if it’ll look bad.”

Sakusa scribbled out a sketch and slid it across the counter to Atsumu, who cocked his head to the side. After a few moments of silent contemplation, Atsumu spoke.

“Yeah. I think I like that.”

Sakusa nodded. “Anything else you want to add to it?”

“Not really.”

“Where were you thinking you wanted it?”

“Across my left shoulder,” said Atsumu. “Unless that wouldn’t work.”

“It’s a little big for a shoulder, unless you want it small and cramped.”

“Right.”

“If you really want it on your shoulder, I’d suggest simplifying it.” Sakusa folded his arms.

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

A few drafts and sketches later, he showed the final drawing to Atsumu, who nodded. Sakusa pulled up a calendar and scheduled Atsumu an appointment, working out time and date before repeating it back for confirmation.

“We can either send you your confirmation by email or by phone.”

“Phone is fine,” Atsumu replied quickly,

“Your phone number, then?”

As Atsumu rattled off the numbers, Sakusa nodded and sent the confirmation. Atsumu checked his phone before taking a deep breath and looking to the door. He awkwardly waved to Sakusa before leaving, leaving behind a strange sense of foreboding curdling in Sakusa’s stomach.

“Wow, that’s a good looking crow design,” Bokuto marveled.

“It’s alright, I guess.”

“Oh, come on. Be a little more confident in yourself.”

“I am.” Sakusa sighed. “I’m just not confident in this design.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Bokuto smiled widely and gave Sakusa a reassuring slap on the back. As Yachi, the third artist in the shop at the moment, finished up one part of her customer’s tattoo, she cleaned up her equipment, looking up and catching Bokuto’s friendly gesture.

“Bokuto, you’ll slap the breath right out of him!”

“You’re right!” Bokuto laughed out loud. “Sorry, Sakusa.”

“It’s fine. Just not so hard next time.”

Sakusa’s next appointment walked in a few minutes later and he got right to work. Leaning over the woman’s stomach, he looked over the intricate array of flowers already begun under her ribs, checking to make sure none of the previous work was infected. When everything looked to be in good shape, he began working again, bringing the tattoo gun to her skin.

Absorbed in his work, he lost track of time, and when the appointment was over Sakusa snapped out of his trance, turning the tattoo gun off and cracking his knuckles. Exhausted, he took care of the newly inked skin and covered it, sending her off with a cursory reminder of proper care procedure.

“It’s rare to see you so intently focused.”

“Are you implying that I’m not dedicated, Yachi?”

She shook her head quickly. “Just that you seem to have something you’re distracting yourself from.”

“Not really, I don’t think.” Sakusa shrugged.

“Well, good work today. I’m headed home!”

“Get home safe,” he said softly.

She raised a hand as she rushed out of the staff entrance, and Sakusa let out a short breath as he packed up his equipment. He found his thoughts wandering back to Atsumu, who puzzled him more than anyone else had in the past. 

Nobody else had watched from afar for a month before making an appointment, at least not so obviously. Nobody else had been so nervous, either. Sakusa wondered if Atsumu was eyeing Yachi. She was sweet, and enough customers had made a point to ask for her personally before that Sakusa knew she was eye catching.

Sighing again, he hoped it wasn’t a repeat of her predicament.

“I’ll close up. Feel free to go home.”

“Thanks, Bokuto.”

With another otherwise monotonous day of work finished, Sakusa made his way home and pulled a book from his shelf, rifling through it until he found the page where the bookmark had slid out of sight.

He awoke in the middle of the night with a sore neck, his book on his chest and a text message lighting up his work phone. Atsumu. 

“Hey, can we reschedule? Something came up.”

Grumbling to himself, Sakusa scrolled through his schedule and sent Atsumu a few dates. The reply came almost instantly, and when the two of them had a new confirmed appointment Sakusa sat up, slumping his shoulders and staring out the window.

“What a pain,” he muttered to the empty room.

Unable to stay asleep, the rest of the night passed slowly, and when morning finally flooded his bedroom with sunlight, Sakusa dragged himself to his feet, washing his hands twice before making himself breakfast. He ate on the way to work to save time and when he got to the shop, Yachi was already there, setting up for the day.

“Morning!” she called.

“Morning,” came his blank reply.

“Oh, Bokuto’s going to be late. Something about Akaashi needing help.”

“Does he have anyone scheduled for the morning?”

Yachi frowned. “I don’t think so.”

Before either of them could say anything further, a loud crack of thunder rang out overhead and sheets of rain poured to the ground outside. Bokuto came stumbling through the staff entrance drenched and out of breath, shaking himself off. Flinching, Sakusa sighed and tossed Bokuto a hand towel.

“Dry yourself off.”

“Sorry,” Bokuto panted sheepishly.

“Just don’t do it again.”

As the rain fell even heavier than before, a surge of people crowded under the shop’s awning outside for cover. Sakusa watched, transfixed, as people pushed and shoved each other for space. It seemed nobody had brought umbrellas, sudden as the rain was, and as Bokuto spiked his hair back into its usual fluffy state, Sakusa wrinkled his nose.

“Well, this is just great.”

“Give it a few minutes and hopefully it’ll pass,” Yachi said with a chuckle.

Someone burst into the shop and Sakusa looked up, hiding his surprise. Atsumu leaned on the counter, panting and coughing. He slicked his hair back, meeting Sakusa’s gaze and inhaling deeply.

“Sorry for barging in, but I couldn’t—I don’t know—”

“Slow down. Breathe.” Sakusa narrowed his eyes. “What happened?”

“My brother. Please, can one of you lend your car?”


	2. 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa offers to cook for Atsumu and his brother, mostly on a whim. He gets a pleasant surprise when he arrives, but the real surprise comes after dinner is ready.

Sakusa narrowed his eyes at Atsumu “What’s so urgent that you need a car?”

“My brother. I can’t take the train.”

“I didn’t drive here. Sorry.”

“He’s bleeding badly! A car swerved off the road, and—”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier, then?” Sakusa cried.

“I’m sorry! I just—is anyone able to help?”

“Akaashi hasn’t left yet.” Bokuto raised a hand. “I’ll take you.”

Within moments, Bokuto and Atsumu were gone, and soon enough the rain let up enough that the crowd cleared up from the front of the shop. Sakusa arched an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the counter and watching people rush by. 

“Well, that was a start to the morning. I don’t have clients until around lunchtime, so I’m going to go pick up some breakfast,” said Yachi, pushing the door open.

“Can you bring me some bread?”

“Yeah!”

Sakusa looked around the otherwise empty shop, letting out a long, exasperated sigh and resting his forehead on the countertop. Staring blankly at the floor, he startled when someone opened the door quite some time later, the bell jingling. At the same time, the staff door opened and he heard Bokuto’s voice along with a laugh he vaguely recognized as Akaashi’s.

“Hey.”

“Atsumu.”

Atsumu nodded. “Well, we’re lucky there was a hospital just a few streets down.”

“How’s your brother?”

“I don’t know. They took him into surgery, so I came here to thank you in the meantime.”

“Did Bokuto drive you back?” Sakusa frowned.

“Yeah. He offered.”

Sakusa discreetly took out his phone, sending a text message to Yachi that he hoped wasn’t too garbled, given that he hadn’t looked at the screen to type it out. His phone buzzed not even minutes later and he turned back to Atsumu.

“Can I get you anything? We have water and a few drinks in the back.”

“I’m fine,” said Atsumu. “Probably.”

“He’ll be okay. Probably.”

Immediately, Sakusa covered his face with a hand, shaking his head. Sighing, he looked at Atsumu between his fingers, dropping his hand.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Atsumu smiled tightly. “I understand.”

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine.”

“Yeah.”

A tense silence fell between them until Yachi walked through the front door, carrying a paper bag. She handed Sakusa a small parcel from inside, then plopped a roll of bread on top. Her wink did not go unnoticed, and Sakusa rolled his eyes with a small smile.

“Here,” he said, holding out the parcel.

Atsumu blinked. “What?”

“It’s chocolate. Not much of a comfort, but I figured it was better than nothing.”

“Oh.”

Atsumu coughed a couple of times and took it, slipping it into his bag. He nodded to Sakusa before pulling a small card from his pocket.

“There’s my business card. Come by sometime, if you want.”

Two days later, despite the reservations he had, Sakusa found himself staring at the sign of a small bar at the edge of town. Though the crowds inside were loud, the place seemed clean enough, and as he pushed through the door a small bell jangled above his head. Atsumu looked up, giving him a small wave, and Sakusa nodded.

“So. A bartender.”

“What do you want? First one on the house.”

Sakusa thought for a moment. “Whiskey sour.”

“Right up.”

“Could you wash the glass again?”

Atsumu gave him an unreadable glance before nodding, wiping the glass down once more before pouring Sakusa’s drink. The two of them sat in silence for a bit until Sakusa cleared his throat, setting his glass down.

“Any update on your brother?”

“He’s being released tomorrow. I guess he got lucky or something.”

“Do you need anything? Medicine, or food?”

Atsumu sighed. “Who knows. I can’t cook for both of us, though. I usually only have time to cook for myself, never mind taking care of him if he needs it.”

“I’ll cook for you two, then.”

Without thinking, the words left his mouth and Sakusa sighed under his breath. Even Atsumu hesitated, fulfilling a few more orders before looking at him again.

“My apartment isn’t exactly spotless. I mean, it’s messy, but it’s mostly clean. And it’s not really that neat, but it’s not gross, for sure—”

“Stop.” Sakusa stifled a groan. “We can clean when I get there.”

“I’ll at least organize what I—I’m sorry, were you seriously offering?”

“No, but I’m committed now.”

Sakusa slid Atsumu’s business card over the table along with a pen, and when Atsumu finished writing down his address he returned both. Atsumu inhaled sharply, holding up both hands.

“My hands are clean. They’re required to be for me to work, and I wash them regularly.”

“I know. Relax.”

Visibly relieved, he nodded and Sakusa almost smiled. Pulling out his sketchbook, he flipped tot he page with Atsumu’s design and stared at it, chin in hand. Atsumu caught sight of it and almost smiled, placing a few glasses up on a rack.

“Thinking of ways to improve the design?”

“Not really. Unless you have a suggestion,” said Sakusa, looking up through his lashes.

“Is it more helpful for me to tell you what I want? Or should I leave it to artist’s eye?”

“Tell me what you want and then we can work around that.”

“Sure.” Atsumu sprayed the counter, grabbing a cloth. “The sketch you have is basically it. Would it be impossible to put a rose in the crow’s beak?”

“Give me a moment.”

He lightly traced the messy outline of a rose stem into the sketch, scattering rose petals across the crow’s wings and finishing it with the actual flower head. Atsumu nodded and gestured to Sakusa’s drink.

“Refill?”

“Please.”

“We’re still on this weekend?” Atsumu paused. “The appointment, I mean.”

“Right. Yeah. Don’t miss it, because I won’t reschedule or refund.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Atsumu let out a clear laugh and Sakusa averted his gaze, feigning continued interest in the paper before him. He stayed for a little while longer, absentmindedly tracing lines he’d already drawn, and after making his way through one more drink, Sakusa stood to leave.

“See you tomorrow. Don’t be late for your appointment on Saturday.”

“I’m picking him up in the afternoon, so no pressure.” Atsumu raised a hand in farewell. “Thanks. I mean it.”

Sakusa mirrored the gesture and left the bar, deep in thought the entire way home. Staring up at the ceiling, he twirled Atsumu’s business card in his hand, his eyes locking onto the swirls and edges in his handwriting. 

The next day, off schedule from work, he sat down at his easel, taking out a brush. He dipped it in black and began to paint, a careful eye guiding his brush across the canvas. For hours, Sakusa absorbed himself in the monotonous movements, fluidly changing paint colors and replacing his paint water until his phone alarm went off. 

“Better be off.”

Sakusa wiped the splotches of black and red from his hands and got dressed to go out, slipping the mask over his face and pulling a jacket on. He grabbed his wallet and house keys and was out the door, hurrying off to the nearest station.

Atsumu’s apartment was, to his surprise, closer to the tattoo shop than his own, and Sakusa blinked up at the door before knocking softly. When Atsumu answered, his clothes a mess and his eyes clearly exhausted, Sakusa raised an eyebrow and gently pushed him aside with one hand. The apartment, just as he had said, was clean but a little messy. Sakusa frowned.

“You exaggerated.”

“What?”

“It’s not that messy.”

“Oh,” said Atsumu. “I did clean it up some before you got here.”

“Can i use your kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

The kitchen itself was fairly empty, and had Sakusa not brought groceries, there wouldn’t have been much in it. He spread his ingredients out and started cooking, his first task a large pot of rice. Scanning what he had purchased, he began to cook side dishes with a curious Atsumu standing nearby.

“Wash your hands.”

“Sure.”

Sakusa paused. “Carefully.”

“You got it.”

Pleasantly surprised but unwilling to say so, Sakusa kept quiet and pointed to the potatoes, nodding when Atsumu passed them to him. He handed Atsumu a knife and gestured to the carrots, passing a slab of pork under his own knife, and with the two of them working side by side dinner was done in no time.

“Thanks.” Sakusa slid his gaze to Atsumu.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

Sakusa washed his hands carefully and dried them, handing the towel to Atsumu when he did the same. An awkward silence fell over the two of them and Sakusa resisted the urge to just bolt. Sighing to himself, he ferried the finished dishes to the table and watched Atsumu carefully fill a bowl for his brother.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“Is that okay?”

Atsumu laughed. “You cooked. I’d hate to just kick you out.”

“Then sure.”

Sakusa picked up the glass of water Atsumu had filled for his brother and followed him into the bedroom, stopping in his tracks. Lying in the bed was the same person who had bumped into him just days earlier.

“Sakusa? Are you okay?”


End file.
